


The Empath And The Survivor

by curlspen



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Abigail Hobbs Lives, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Comfort Sex, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Other, PTSD, no encephalitis, recovering from abuse, slight daddy kink
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-15
Updated: 2019-03-15
Packaged: 2019-11-18 08:11:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18116810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/curlspen/pseuds/curlspen
Summary: Will and Abigail escape Hannibal's wrath but healing from their trauma proves a longer and more delicate task for these unlikely lovers.ON HIATUS! I'm going to continue this story but it's taking longer than intended.





	The Empath And The Survivor

All Abigail hears is the wild thrashing of her heart, like a caged bird struggling to break free. She doesn't hear Will's whimpers of pain, she doesn't hear her own horrified gasp. Hannibal stabbed him. Will is bleeding. Will is crumbling to the ground. All hope is sucked from her world and only the horror remains.

Tears stream down Abigail's face, it seems she should have run out by now but still more and more come. Hannibal lied, she shouldn't be surprised but still the betrayal stings. Stupid, stupid little girl. The tears start to drip from her chin like raindrops off a roof, they kiss her collar bone and trickle down her front. Hannibal turns his black, loveless eyes to her and suddenly she's painfully aware of her body; of how soft and breakable she is. That throbbing muscle in her chest, the raised scar on her neck like a roadmap. Hannibal reaches a hand to her, Will's blood still wet on his fingers, it looks like an offering but she knows it's a command.

How many lives have those big hands snuffed out? Abigail wonders for the hundredth time as her guts turn to lead and bile rises in her throat. This is it. Hannibal is as steady and composed as a big cat but the hunger is burning in his eyes, searing into her. He's going to slit her throat wide open like her father did, she'll choke on her own blood again but this time she'll die. She'll be thrown into that great big unknown by those dirty, blood-soaked hands.

Hannibal doesn't look like a father or a dark prince anymore, he just looks like the monster who stabbed his best friend and locked her in a basement. Suddenly rage floods her, a lifetime full of rage washes over her and drowns out her fear and her thoughts. She wants to stomp that arrogance off his face. 

When Abigail walks to the monster she does so with purpose not obedience, her heart no longer thrashing but humming. Anger sharpens her fear, gives her clarity and courage. If she's going to die it's not going to be with trembling submission but with all the ferocity she's never been allowed to show, if she's going to die she's going to die with pride.

Abigail doesn't think about what she's going to do, her body acts of its own accord and she simply cheers it on. She punches Hannibal in the throat as hard as she can. She's never seen him look so vulnerable, his eyes bulge in shock and he falls back choking. The sight both terrifies and thrills her, a eerily familiar combination. Abigail is desperately trying to wrestle the knife from Hannibal's larger grip, behind her Will is struggling to his feet with barely muffled groans but Hannibal and Abigail are honed in on each other with predator's eyes. The knife twists and slices deep into her palm, there's no pain only the feeling of thick hot blood flooding her hand. 

Hannibal recovers and quick as a snake his long arm is around her throat, squeezing mercilessly. Abigail fights blindly like a wild animal caught in a trap, clawing at his arm and jamming her heels into his shins. He stammers but doesn't loosen his grip. Her vision goes white around the edges. They say your life is supposed to flash before your eyes when you die but mercifully Abigail doesn't see her tormented life. The monster's nightmare kitchen whites out and all she sees is Will; an avenging angel kneeling over her and desperately trying to close her wound, a friend when she had none, the only friend she has left in the world... Will...

Abigail's body falls to the ground with a dull thud and a slight wet squeak. She blinks the white from her eyes and gulps in air greedily between hoarse coughs. She's covered in blood and there's no way of knowing who's it is, it coats the floor in a sticky film. A hyena sob rips from her throat as she stares at the endless red and the searing pain in her palm finally hits.

Hands come out of nowhere and grip her jacket, urging her to stand. After a moment the voice registers and Abigail blinks up into Will's desperate face like someone looking up into the sun. 

"Abigail... We have to leave now." Will's voice, thick with pain and exhaustion

Abigail wants to ask him a thousand questions but when Will grips her uninjured hand, she follows wordlessly. On weak, trembling limps and dripping blood with every step they leave the monster's house. The night air is cool against their clammy flesh, the stars are stark white in the endless black of the sky, the moon is a perfect crescent (Abigail's favorite) and as they trudge to Will's car she stares up in wonderment. Abigail has been trapped in a perpetual night since Hannibal took her ear and locked her in his basement but it had been a starless and stale night. The crisp, clean air fills her lungs and reminds her that she is alive. More alive than she's been in a while. 

When they get to the car, Abigail helps Will ease into the passenger's with a pained groan before sitting in the drive's seat. In the unfamiliar car, reality set in heavy and daunting over Abigail. 

"Where will we go?" Abigail asked herself as well as Will, red-strained hands hovering uncertainly over the steering wheel. 

They couldn't go to the hospital, could they? That would mean police and all the dangers that came with that. That would mean trapping herself again. But Will had been stabbed and her hand was still bleeding.

"Will, did you -"

"I didn't kill him...just a sedative" Will mumbles, resting his head against the window as if it were too heavy for his neck. 

Abigail reaches into his pockets with her uninjured hand until she found the keys and the phone. She starts a map-quest to the nearest hospital. They won't be arrested for murder and the hospital is the only choice if Will is going to survive. They'll just have to figure it out from there.

Abigail hasn't driven since her parents' death and the freedom of it is exhilarating, even with her palm throbbing painfully against the wheel and Will's sounds of distress. For the first time in a long time, Abigail is not afraid. She's faced death and punched it in the throat. Abigail isn't afraid of death anymore and so she won't be a slave to it ever again. They are alive and they are free and they are moving onward. 

"We're gonna be okay." Will mumbles as if reading her thoughts

Abigail smiles and through his pain, Will manages to smile back.


End file.
